


The Quidditch Cup

by eternal_screaming



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28376886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternal_screaming/pseuds/eternal_screaming
Summary: Draco has just won the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin, their first in many years. In his celebration, however, he may learn Quidditch has brought him something more significant than a simple trophy.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Graham Montague
Kudos: 2





	The Quidditch Cup

**Author's Note:**

> I can't find any other fics with this pairing, so I may just be a pioneer. If I am, and somehow you manage to find this fic in rarepair hell, please accept me as your new captain! I christen this ship as ... Draham? Graco? I don't really know, please help.
> 
> Also, I don't really know the history of the Quidditch cups and victories in canon but I also don't really care.

The Slytherin sections in the stands cheered and shouted and danced in celebration. Draco held the recently caught golden snitch in his hands, but he couldn’t feel the same happiness that had captivated his Slytherin peers. He barely had enough time to put his feet on the muddy pitch before being lifted into the air by his teammates. He let the high of being celebrated and appreciated wash over him and lifted the snitch in the air for all. He wanted everyone to see his victory, especially _Potter_ , the boy who he finally beat in Quidditch, for the whole world to see!

He landed back on the ground with a squelch. 

“Malfoy! You brilliant bastard!” said Cassius Warrington, Chaser, clapping him on the back with excessive force. 

“Salazar, nice catch, Malfoy!” came the bouldering growl of the Keeper, Miles Bletchley, a couple of meters behind him.

His teammates, while all fine blokes, were hardly talented beyond the Quidditch pitch. Crabbe and Goyle were typically the only ones he could consider his friends, and that was mostly the fault of their unwavering loyalty and gullibility. After some short celebrations, Draco left the scene and quickly changed out of his dirty Quidditch kit, which had become so covered with brown it looked like he was a Ravenclaw. 

“You’re not gonna celebrate with me? I’m truly hurt, Draco.”

Draco turned after finally getting his shirt over his shoulders. Graham Montague stood leaning against a nearby locker. He looked impossibly fit, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, muscled and well-defined. Chaser’s arms.

“You weren’t even playing, you have no right to celebrate.” Draco bantered back, barely holding back his smile.

“Ah, well do I get to celebrate if my _boyfriend_ caught the cup clinching snitch?” Graham responded, closing in on Draco.

“Please don’t call me that, how many times to I have to tell you?’ Draco chuckled, unable to hold back his amusement any longer.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Should we head up to the dorms? Or stay here? You know, it was very inconvenient of you to have put on your clothes.” Graham started to whisper, closing in towards Draco’s cheek. A soft peck quickly warmed Draco’s body, but he took a step back.

“Not here, not now, Montague. Anyone could see, and aren’t your bones extra weak right now? Draco pointedly asked, and then looked down to his feet. “Though, perhaps a cuddle could be a good, and healthy, substitute.” 

Graham started to laugh, which was a lot softer than people would expect. Graham’s hardy exterior is merely a facade to his mushy core, which of course, is only for Draco. He was the exception to the rule of the Slytherin Quidditch team, being smart, funny, kind, and of course, fit.

“I guess we have a deal, Malfoy.” Graham smiled. “I’ll see you in ten minutes in the usual spot. Don’t be late.” He teased, and quickly turned the corner and disappeared.

Draco cleaned up, and went out the door, deciding he didn’t really care if people noticed that the team captain and the hero seeker were suspiciously absent at the celebration party in the Slytherin common room.

The silver cup shimmered in the soft evening light pouring into the trophy room. The new addition had a thing to delineate it from the hundreds of others like it. Draco had worked for it. Graham had worked for it. This was what their goal had been all year, ever since Graham Montague marched into the Quidditch locker room, giving an overly inspirational speech upon his appointment as captain.

“I feel bad you weren’t able to play.” Draco softly squeaked out, still not entirely comfortable readily showing emotion.

Graham looked away for a second, sighed.

“I do too. This is what I wanted these last 6 years, to win the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin, to be the captain, and to finally have my talent for throwing balls into hoops be recognized.” Graham then looked back at Draco. He made eye contact, staring deeply into Draco’s grey-silver eyes, only a shade away from the color of the Quidditch Cup. 

“However, I won someone greater. Something no one else in the world has.” He paused for dramatic effect. “You.”

Draco rolled his eyes heartily. “That’s _so_ cliche! Please don’t tell me you’ve been reading your mother’s romance novels again?” He teased, giggling like a little girl in the process.

“Maybe.” Graham said, in a fashion that made it abundantly clear to Draco that he had indeed, read his mother’s romance novels. Draco made a face, and Graham had to laugh. 

“I’m _not_ joking though. I really don’t care about the cup as much as I care about you.”

Draco took Graham’s hand and squeezed.


End file.
